


Chasing Inspiration

by tesselester



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Anxiety, Competition, Crushes, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Katsuki Yuuri is a Tease, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, One Shot, barely even there, like super minor, victor chases his love, yuuri doubts everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselester/pseuds/tesselester
Summary: The video of Yuuri skating Stammi Vicino goes viral and Victor sees it. But what if Victor and Yuuri never meet in Japan, what if Victor never became Yuuri's coach and continued competing. Victor chases Yuuri all over the globe but he's always two seconds too late. Yuuri finds strength all on his own and tries to reach his intended goal: skating on the same ice as Victor.And when they do meet, it's everything they've been hoping for and more.





	Chasing Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> this concept was much better when i planned it out in my head.

When the video of Yuuri skating Victor’s free skate program, _Stammi Vicino_ goes viral, Yuuri freaks out. He panics. He holes himself up in his bedroom away from the eyes of his family or Minako or the patrons of the onsen. In fact, he wakes up in the middle of the night and in his dreary state, books a ticket to Thailand where no one knows him except for the one person who won’t judge him or make him feel more ashamed than he already does about the world finding out about his massive admiration for Victor (massive crush is the word Phichit would use).

And so he finds solace in his friend’s reassuring words and comforting touches.

Yuuri sat on Phichit’s bed, his world seemingly ripped apart from underneath him. He was falling into a black pit of despair and he was having a tough time climbing back up. The fact that Victor had retweeted the video didn’t help his sanity at all.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening,” he repeated over and over again. Yuuri rocked back and forth and clutched his head in his hands, denying the fact that _this is happening_.

“Victor won’t find it weird,” Phichit said with a hand on Yuuri’s back, rubbing slow circles, “I’m sure he has tons of fans recreating his programs and posting them online.”

Yuuri stopped rocking and raised his head to glare at his friend, “that’s just it. I don’t want to be seen as just a fan, Phichit! What if I finally get to compete with him and all he thinks of me is that I’m just another one of his fans. What if we start getting close and all he can see me as is just his fan. What if he—”

“Okay, okay,” Phichit placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulders, “it’s okay, Yuuri, breathe. You’re gonna be fine. If you and Victor become competitors, he won’t see you as just a fan, he’ll see you as the person you are, he’ll see you for all the skills you have as a skater and he’ll respect you for it, I’m sure of it.”

Yuuri pouted at him, unconvinced, “and what if he doesn’t.”

Phichit seemed to consider this as he tilted his head to the side in thought, “then I’ll have to ask for your permission to kick his ass for you.”

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, when Victor had seen the video of Katsuki Yuuri, that drunk boy from the banquet that swept him off his feet and gave him the night of his life, skating to his program, _Stammi Vicino_ with incredible accuracy and skill and musicality, he was shocked.

Dazzled was the word more suited to Victor’s expression. Yuuri had skated to an empty rink with no music. But what shocked Victor is how vividly he could hear the melody, the violins, the flute, the tenor. He could hear it in every movement Yuuri made and every step Yuuri took and the look on his face while he skated was pure bliss and content.

His heart had never felt so light. He had never felt such a high before and the excitement was too much. In a split second decision, he booked a one way flight to Japan, packing all the essentials and his dog.

However, when he got there, Katsuki Yuuri’s family had told him he already left that morning and was in Thailand. Of all places, Thailand was the last place Victor would’ve guessed.

It had already become big news in Russia and Japan in the hours it took to fly there; Victor was rumoured to be taking a season off with an intent to become Yuuri’s coach after the inspiration from seeing that viral video hit him. Yakov was not pleased and made that very clear in a public interview.

But Victor wasn’t sure anymore. Yuuri wasn’t here like he thought he would be. He was chasing an empty thought, a fleeting emotion, something he could never reach.

“Why don’t you stay the night,” Yuuri’s mother, Hiroko, asked him in her accented English, “you’ve had a long flight.”

Victor accepted and relaxed in the hot spring upon Hiroko’s suggestion. He ate the onsen’s specialty, katsudon (specialty because it was Yuuri’s favourite), and lounged in their robes.

Hiroko and Minako, Yuuri’s ballet teacher, had gathered around the table as he ate. They told him of Yuuri’s admiration for Victor to an extent, he could tell there was something they were keeping from him, probably for the sake of not humiliating Yuuri by alluding to the fact that he was a massive admirer.

But he knew enough from the women and from what he’s seen in Yuuri’s skating on YouTube: Victor was Yuuri’s inspiration for skating.

Victor spent the rest of the evening exploring the small town. If he couldn’t see Yuuri, at least he could see the place Yuuri grew up in. He walked up the large flight of stairs to the castle, Makkachin trotted alongside him, and took a selfie with Makka with the castle in the background and posted it to Instagram.

As he put his phone away as he noticed a large building at the bottom of the hill, he can just barely make out the words _Ice Castle_.

He walked into the building and a girl from behind the counter called out something in Japanese he didn’t understand.

“Hello,” Victor said.

The girl glances over and her eyes widened, her mouth is caught in an O shape and her hands flew to cover it.

“Victor Nikiforov!” She shouted in disbelief.

Victor just smiled as the girl slammed her hands down onto the counter.

“So it’s true!” She said enthusiastically in English, “you’re going to become Yuuri’s coach?”

“Well,” Victor scratched his head, “I think I may be making an irrational decision. He’s not here, after all.”

“But…” the girl looked defeated, her eyebrows furrowed, “ _you’re_ here.”

He chuckled, “yes. That, I am.”

Victor was a little deterred by the girl’s eagerness, but stayed no less to hear about Yuuri’s skating. He found out from this girl, Yuko, that Yuuri spends his time here to clear his thoughts when he’s feeling particularly frustrated or nervous. This was the rink he started skating in, and he shared that experience with Yuko.

He got the impression that Yuuri and Yuko had a thing back when they were kids, but perhaps he was reading too much into her enthusiastic way of talking about Yuuri and how they would copy Victor’s programs to improve their skills.

“How come you’re not a competitive skater?” Victor asked.

Yuko looked down at her feet with as a fond smile spread across her cheeks, “Yuuri was always the better skater out of the two of us. I was never meant to compete. I never had the passion for it like Yuuri did, and still does.”

Victor nodded. He had instantly recognized Yuuri’s passion in his performance and how clear his expressions were.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love skating!” she rushed to say, “but it’s Yuuri’s whole life. You’re his motivation, his inspiration! He’s admired you for so long.”

“So I’ve been told,” Victor smiled.

 

* * *

 

“YUURI!” Phichit barged into the small guest bedroom where Yuuri was staying for the next week until things had died down.

“What,” Yuuri mumbled into his pillow.

“YUURI WAKE UP,” Phichit screamed, “it’s urgent!”

Yuuri sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, “what is it? What?”

Phichit shoved his phone into Yuuri’s face and Yuuri had to squint at the bright screen that shined up at him. It took him a second to focus on what he was looking at, but soon all the colour had drained from his face and he felt faint.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said warily.

“I don’t understand,” Yuuri’s hand was shaking, “what is happening. Why? When? What? Why?”

Phichit sat across from him on the bed, “Yuuri, calm, breathe.”

Yuuri breathed. Calm.

“So, he’s in Hasetsu,” Phichit started.

“Yes.”

Phichit said, “I heard there were rumours he was inspired by the video and decided to be your coach.”

Yuuri’s head shot up at that. Coach?

“He said he was thinking of taking a season off.”

Yuuri held up his hand, “wait. Back up. Coach?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Phichit leaned forward, “coach. As in he’s interested in you as a skater, he saw what you can do and clearly thinks you're good.”

Yuuri’s mind repeats those words in his head over and over, _interested in you as a skater_.

“But…” Yuuri muttered, “that’s not possible. I mean, he’s the best figure skater in the world. The World! And I’m just a nobody. Why would he think i’m any good, when I can’t even qualify for Worlds.”

“Well, judging from this,” Phichit help up his phone with Victor’s face still shining up at him, “he obviously thinks differently.”

He threw the covers off and started pacing the small room with a furiously nervous demeanor, “what do I do?” He asked, as if the answer was not obviously staring him in the face.

“Go to him!” Phichit shouted as he frantically threw Yuuri’s clothes into his luggage and practically shoved him out of the house.

He’s on the first flight back to Japan in five hours. Phichit had told him to take a leap of faith and trust his instincts and not doubt himself because he had a long history of causing catastrophic self destruction when he doubted himself.

However, when he arrived back home, Minako angrily tells him in a drunken stupor that Victor had already left to go back to Russia and he lost his chance to ever hope to have Victor to himself.

Yuuri’s heart fell. He had rode the plane back to Japan with a high and excitement buzzing through his veins but now that Victor had left, he found himself wanting to question every choice he had ever made ever since placing last at the Grand Prix Final.

Victor had probably come to Japan and discovered that Yuuri was just another crazed fan and decided he didn’t like what he saw and left. He silently wondered with a heavy heart if Victor had seen the Victor Nikiforov poster filled walls of his bedroom.

Yuuri stalked back to his room, ignoring his mother’s plea to eat and collapsed onto his bed. If he was going to have any hope of proving Victor wrong, he was damn well going to work his ass off to do it.

The next day he had to listen to his mom and Minako prattle on about Victor and how he really liked katsudon and how he really liked the hot spring and how his dog was almost exactly like Vicchan, “you would’ve really liked Makkachin, Yuuri, he was very friendly.”

With every detail they told him, he felt his heart grow heavier and heavier. He couldn’t listen to their stories any longer and made his escape for Ice Castle.

But Yuko wasn’t any different than his mom and Minako.

“Oh my god, Yuuri, he was so beautiful! I let him skate here and wow is he amazing. He just glides and moves like a god,” Yuko told him with stars in her eyes.

“Oh,” Yuuri just mumbled, disappointed.

Yuko smiled at him, “it’s a shame you weren’t here, Yuuri. He was really interested in you, actually. He asked about how often you practiced, who you practiced with, what your workout regime is; all things a coach would ask, come to think of it.”

Yuuri’s heart sank at the word coach. Exciting as it was that Victor had intended to be his coach, Yuuri knew it was too good to be true. Victor left. He didn’t stay. It didn’t boost Yuuri’s confidence in himself any and to say that Yuuri was insecure was being nice.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” Yuuri gave her a half-hearted smile.

Yuko tilted her head, regarding him with a hint of pity, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Yuuri shook his head, “It’s okay, Yu-chan.”

Yuko gave him a small smile, letting her shoulders relax as they sat together, “well, what are you going to do now?”

He hadn’t really given much thought to what he would do. After the Grand Prix Final of tears he felt so depressed he didn’t want to continue. Didn’t want to carry out the shame of losing for all of Japan to see, so he came home, took a break. But skating _Stammi Vicino_ , he found his love for skating resurfaced and he wanted to touch the ice more often and wanted to feel the wind through his hair more often and listen to the music reverberate through the rink more often.

He loved skating and didn’t want to give that up. It was a huge part of his life and he didn’t know what he would do without it.

“Well, I still want to skate on the same ice as Victor,” Yuuri said, “so I’m going to try to get better so that I can be on the same level as him one day.”

 

* * *

 

Victor returned to Russia defeated and all he could think was that he was making a big mistake. He could’ve stayed, could’ve waited for Yuuri, but Yakov had begged him to return to Russia to continue his training and to stop being an idiot and Victor didn’t have a good enough excuse not to.

Yuri had even flown to Japan to retrieve Victor and told him he was being stupid for chasing that loser.

Victor furrowed his eyebrows. Sure, Katsuki Yuuri had placed last at the Finals, but he had made it to the final. That’s a feat in and of itself. He was one of the top six and to say he was a loser didn’t make it true. Victor didn’t believe it at all.

Victor’s heart wasn’t in the training Yakov had assigned him that day and he fell on more than one jump.

“What is wrong with you today?” Yakov had yelled at him from across the rink, “stop thinking about that Japanese skater and get your head screwed on straight!”

Victor just sighed and continued skating as he readied himself for another jump he would inevitably fall on.

“Are you okay, Victor?” Yuri had approached him when he was sitting on the bench, his feet stretched out with ice packs on his ankles. The teenager looked timid, shy almost, avoiding eye contact with his rinkmate.

“I’m fine,” Victor said irritatingly.

Yuri briefly glanced at him before deciding to sit beside him, “no, you’re not.”

Victor sighed and closed his eyes, “whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it.”

“I just think you need to take a break,” Yuri said.

“I am,” Victor said, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

Yuri rolled his eyes, “I mean, taking time off. You’re clearly not focussed on skating. Is it that Katsuki Yuuri skater?”

Victor eyed the blond kid. Either Yuri was getting more observant these days, or Victor was being really obvious. He looked down at his toes.

“I see,” Yuri nodded in understanding.

Victor fiddled with the cap of his water bottle, lost in the memory of Yuuri’s eyes staring up at him, asking him to be his coach. But that was it, just a memory, it was in the past, something he couldn’t hold on to. His time with Yuuri was fleeting and he could no longer reach out and touch it.

But perhaps that’s what needed to happen. Maybe he needs to let this sit. He’ll wait. Until the next competition. His programs needed fine tuning and he’ll focus all his attention on that. He doesn’t need to see Yuuri now because he can wait.

He’ll spend his whole life waiting if it means he gets to see Yuuri’s shining eyes once more.

“I heard he went back to Detroit to train under Cialdini,” Yuri said nonchalantly as he stands to stretch. He looked back at Victor with an innocent smile, “might be a good time to take a break.”

Victor wasn’t desperate. No, he wouldn’t say that. More like eager. Optimistic is the word he might use. But not desperate.

It took him a month to book a flight to America after convincing Yakov he wasn’t leaving this time. He also didn’t want to seem too desperate because he wasn’t. He wasn’t desperate at all. Who would think that. No one.

Victor wasn’t desperate.

So he waited a month. He didn’t want a repeat of last time; impulsively flying to Japan only to find his plan wasn’t going as he’d hoped.

But this time was different. Because he waited. And surely Yuuri will be in Detroit all summer long, so of course he’ll be there when Victor arrived unannounced.

Only, when Victor does arrive unannounced, Yuuri isn’t there.

Victor wants to strangle something. Of course Yuuri isn’t here.

Of. Fucking. Course.

How could he be so stupid as to think Yuuri would just be waiting for him in America when he arrives fucking unannounced, Victor, you fucking idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“He comes back to Detroit periodically,” Celestino explained, “he trains here so that he can master the program and the elements and listen to my advice, but Japan is where he likes to practice. He says in Hasetsu he has the luxury of having the space to himself and uses the rink to practice whenever he wants.”

Victor furrowed his eyebrows.

“He likes practicing alone. He doesn’t like people watching him when he makes a mistake.”

Victor nodded.

Celestino knitted his eyebrows together, “why did you come here, anyways?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see Yuuri. He, uh… he…” Victor rattled his brain for an excuse to give to Yuuri’s coach.

“There were rumours that you wanted to be his coach?” Celestino narrowed his eyes, “are they true?”

“Well” Victor stuttered, “I—I haven’t fully thought it through I guess.”

Celestino regarded him with a patient expression.

“I just think Yuuri is a really good skater,” Victor said carefully, “and I wanted to tell him—”

The man interrupted him, “you be careful, Victor. He looks up to you. Praises you on the highest of pedestals. Yuuri may look tough, but he’s much more fragile than you think. A skater confides in their coach. There has to be mutual trust; they have to trust that you know what you’re advising and you have to trust that they know what they’re capable of.”

Victor nodded. Celestino’s unexpected lecture had put Victor’s quest into perspective. Did he know what he was doing? Was he good enough to be Yuuri’s coach? Did he have what it took to give another skater advice on the skills he’s acquired over the years of being on top?

Victor didn’t know what it was like to lose. To feel crushed because his performance wasn’t good enough to beat the others. He knew what it took to create a skating machine, but mere mortals tended to have fluctuating emotions and Victor was unfamiliar with those things.

He left the skating club with his head hung low. He’d never felt this much for a boy before, but somewhere in between the banquet at Sochi and Stammi Vicino Yuuri had captured his attention and heart and had reintroduced Victor to so many feelings he had long forgotten about. It was exhilarating.

 

* * *

 

“Victor was here.”

Those words cut through his heart like a searing hot knife, “what?” he yells.

“He wanted to see you.”

Yuuri looks left and right in search for the man, expecting to find him standing somewhere, waiting for him.

“He’s not here now,” Celestino said, “he was here two weeks ago. Came right after you left to go home.”

“What?” Yuuri yells again, louder this time. Yuuri thinks he wants to cry and collapse right at his coach’s feet and curl up into a ball. Just leave him be, he’ll be okay.

Celestino pats his shoulder, “he said he thinks you’re a really good skater, Yuuri.”

Yuuri makes an undignified noise in the back of his throat.

“He seemed not like himself,” Celestino considered the thought, “like he was more lively than usual. Normally he would be very composed and proper, but it was almost like he was flustered or something!”

Yuuri wondered what a flustered Victor looked like as Celestino chuckles.

“I mean I don’t know what he was thinking coming all the way here, unannounced. He seemed… motivated.”

The Japanese skater furrowed his brows at his coach as he listened to him talk about this Victor he was unfamiliar with. This Victor that apparently hadn’t had a lot of life in him in the past few years. This Victor that Celestino has only seen smile on the podiums and media events and to fans. This Victor that had reverted to a blubbering teenager when he was here just two weeks ago.

He wanted to hear more; this Victor was much more interesting than Five Time Gold Medalist Victor Nikiforov.

Celestino brings his hands up to his face as he spoke out the side of his mouth, “y’know I think he was secretly scoping out the competition. He must’ve seen the video of you skating to his program and wanted to see how good you were in person. I wouldn’t blame him to be honest. Your step sequences are your best asset as a skater.”

Yuuri flushed at the praise, stumbling forward with the weight of his coach’s hand on his back.

“Now, enough about Victor,” Celestino pushed him toward the ice, “you’ll see him at competition. Let’s practice your quad salchow, you’ve almost got it down.”

The season had started and Yuuri had trained all summer long. Every day, in and out, he trained until the blisters on his feet bled through his socks. He trained until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He trained until his brain was dizzy with the force of the spins. The music of his programs were ingrained into his mind, every note, every intricacy, every lilt of the instrument forever playing on repeat through his ears.

At one point, he got tired of it, taking a much needed break from the stress and the hurt, but he was reminded of Victor’s pursuit for Yuuri that was just two seconds too late and he was motivated to train some more. And he did until he couldn’t think of anything else but the ice, the music, and Victor.

His first competition in the series was the Cup of China (after the domestic competition he had to participate in in order to qualify for the Grand Prix) and he was buzzing with nerves.

“Now, Yuuri,” Celestino patted him on the back, “remember what we talked about? You just focus on your breathing and listen to the music. Don’t look at numbers, or placings. Just you and the ice.”

Just him and the ice.

Breathe in and out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Breathe.

Still.

He stretched out his limbs, shaking them loose, jogging back and forth, letting his muscles warm up, when he saw from the corner of his eyes, silver.

He stumbled on a step, tripped over his foot and landed face first into the blue mat on the floor. Celestino rushed over to him but Yuuri couldn’t hear him over the rush of panic in his mind.

Victor was here.

Sure, he knew Victor would be at the Cup of China as soon as the assignments had been announced, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that he would be seeing Victor here.

But suddenly all he could think about was Victor. His longtime idol. The man he wanted to reach for so long, wanted to be on the same level as him for so long, was here.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Celestino gently clutched his arm, lifting him up to stand.

Yuuri pulled his eyes away from Victor’s retreating figure. A pain shot through his leg as he stood. He winced and his coach helped him to a nearby chair where he picked up Yuuri’s leg and bent it, assessing the damage.

“Does it hurt?” He said with a hand on his knee.

It did. But it was bearable, at least for this competition it would have to be, he didn’t have the luxury of the option to call it quits.

“No,” Yuuri said through his teeth.

“Yuuri,” Celestino looked into his eyes, “if it hurts you have to tell me. If you skate, you might injure yourself further.”

Yuuri looked up to scan the hallway in search of Victor, but he was gone, “I’ll be fine,” he stood up, pushing his coach away and continued with his warm up, a little more determined and with every instinct he had in his gut, he limped on through his short program.

He was having flashbacks to last year, placing last at the final. He scrolled through the news after the event for the short program ended. His slight injury had landed him very close to last place, but he wasn’t blaming his failure on the pain. He started to feel the anxiety bubble to the surface while reading through the criticism on figure skating forums.

It didn’t help that Phichit was currently telling him about his hot pot night with Leo and Guang-Hong, “—and then Victor showed up and joined us! He started drinking a lot and got pretty drunk. And he started stripping in the middle of the restaurant, Yuuri! I have photos!”

Yuuri didn’t want to see, “maybe later,” he said. It seemed like they were all having fun without Yuuri, especially Victor.

Phichit’s shoulders sank at Yuuri’s clearly unamused expression, “he asked about you,” he said, putting his phone away, “asked why you weren’t there.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up, he hesitantly looked up at his friend sitting across the bed from him, “and?”

Phichit shrugged, “I just told him you were feeling nervous about competition and you’re very careful about what you eat before competing.”

Yuuri nodded.

“I think he was kind of disappointed,” Phichit said, “when he saw us at the restaurant, he seemed pretty excited, but his expression changed as soon as he realized you weren’t with us.”

Yuuri stared blankly at the lamp on the dresser behind Phichit, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

Phichit jumped up and leaned forward on the bed, “sure it does! He wanted to see you! Yuuri, you’re not seeing this for what it is.”

Yuuri pressed his face between his hands and closed his eyes, shutting out the rest of the world, “I kind of just want to go to sleep right now, Phichit. I’m feeling really nervous about tomorrow’s free skate.”

His best friend nodded slowly, “okay,” he went to the door but paused before he left, “I think you should consider the possibility that Victor might already consider you to be the skater you want him to see you as.”

Yuuri watched as he turned the doorknob, exiting the room with a “goodnight” and leaving Yuuri alone with his thoughts.

He didn’t know what to think anymore. He was spiraling in his own self loathing. He didn’t expect the despair to start so early in the season.

He picked up his phone and continued to read through the article. The reporter had praised Victor’s performance highly and called him things like genius, legendary, inspiring. Yuuri couldn’t deny that Victor was absolutely breathtaking like he always was. But tonight, something had changed.

Yuuri had watched Victor grow as a skater since he was young. Victor had skated throughout the years always surprising Yuuri with every new program and season. But somewhere along the line, Victor had lost his charm. He was still captivating, but he was not longer excited to do interviews, or ice shows, he kept himself hidden mostly, only giving the world a fossilized version of the Victor fans and media portrayed him as, cementing his image in tight photographs and a careful online persona.

Tonight, Victor had reclaimed his youth, Yuuri was a witness to Victor’s newfound excitement. He watched as Victor sat in the Kiss & Cry and pumped his fist in victory at his high score, placing him in first. For the first time in a while, Yuuri saw the cheerful smile that reached the athlete’s eyes as he waved to the camera and held up a hand heart.

Yuuri thought he’d like to reach that level. How he’d like to sit in the green room beside Victor and watch their friends and competitors on the monitor. How he’d like to become one of Victor’s friends. That’s all he really wanted, to reach that place Victor inhabited in the skating world and get to know him outside of the skating world.

He found himself mindlessly scrolling through instagram as his finger landed on one of Phichit’s posts from two nights ago. The hot pot night.

Leo and Guang-Hong were standing behind Phichit who took the selfie and in the back was Victor, his cheeks were flushed with alcohol and his hair was a mess. He was missing his shirt and was holding a bottle of beer in his hands, but he wasn’t smiling. In fact, his eyebrows were furrowed and he had a look of longing in his eyes.

Yuuri knew in that moment that when he stepped onto the ice tomorrow, he wouldn’t let anything stop him from reaching his goal.

Tomorrow, when he stepped out onto the ice, he would dedicate his performance to one person.

 

* * *

 

Katsuki Yuuri had completely transformed in the hours between his short program and his free. Victor watched him skate instead of warming up, to which Yakov had yelled at him for.

But Victor could not take his eyes off of Yuuri as he stumbled through the jumps in his short but graced the program with his mesmerizing step sequence. This Katsuki Yuuri was different to the relaxed Katsuki Yuuri of _Stammi Vicino_.

Katsuki Yuuri in his short program was less expressive, less emotional. He was struggling, and it showed, stamped loud in red letters on his face; he wasn’t doing well.

But overnight, the Katsuki Yuuri that placed fifth was now performing in his free as if his life depended on it. Victor watched as Yuuri dominated the arena, his presence radiating power and every single pair of eyes in the audience were glued to the athlete as he fought his way to the top

When he finished, Victor had clapped. He wanted to go congratulate Yuuri and as soon as he took a step toward his direction, Yakov had pulled him back.

“Victor, you need to warm up, stop watching the other skaters.”

Victor was tugged to the back where he continued his warm up now less focussed on warming up than he was on that magical performance.

Before he knew it, Victor was facing the ice and his name was being called and the music was starting and his legs were moving and then the performance was over and he was searching for the person who had filled all his thoughts throughout the entirety of his program.

He had a huge grin on his face, it reached his eyes and he felt refreshed. He never felt refreshed after a performance. Always tired. But now, he was inspired.

“Where’s Yuuri?” Victor had found Phichit walking down the hall.

Phichit turned around and the first thing Victor noticed were his worried brows, “he had to go to the hospital.”

Upon Victor’s frightened expression, Phichit rushed to say, “it’s nothing serious! But Celestino forced Yuuri to get his knee checked out. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Victor relaxed with a sigh, “that’s good to hear.”

“Yeah,” Phichit gave him a small smile, “but just imagining the pain he must’ve been in during his performances,” and clutched his fist over his chest, “it hurts to see him like that.”

Victor’s heart tightened. He wanted to congratulate Yuuri for performing so well.

“Why did you want to see him?” Phichit tilted his head up and looked at Victor with slightly raised eyebrows, his curiosity plain as day on his face.

“I wanted to give him these flowers and tell him he was amazing today,” Victor looked at the flowers in his hand, forgotten.

Phichit’s eyebrows raised further, his eyes widened when he saw the small bouquet in his hand, “I can give it to him! We’re flying out together as soon as the doctor is done examining him.”

Victor deflated, he had hoped to be able to see Yuuri to give the flowers to him personally, but alas, it was not meant to be, “okay, thanks.”

Phichit took the flowers in his hand, transferring the things he was holding to his other hand and smiled at Victor.

“You were great by the way,” he said to the silver medalist.

“Thanks,” Phichit grinned, “you too!”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s knee recovered pretty quickly in time for his next competition. Phichit had come to the hospital shortly after he was admitted with a small bouquet of flowers.

“They’re from Victor.”

Yuuri’s eyes were shining, his heart thumped rapidly and his hands shook. From Victor.

“He wanted to see you and tell you that you were amazing today,” Phichit smiled.

Yuuri’s eyes flicked down to the small tag wrapped around the stems, it read:

 _you were amazing, Yuuri_  
_see you at the finals!_

_xx victor_

“Today,” Yuuri repeated, but not yesterday.

It was as if Phichit could read his mind, “Yuuri, you know what he meant.”

Yuuri nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.

“Well, at least he doesn’t see you as just a fan,” Phichit offered.

“I guess so,” Yuuri tilted his head and sighed, “what are my chances of making it to the finals now?”

Yuuri had placed fourth at the Cup of China after Chris so his chances of reaching the finals were slim to none. He’ll have to place high at the Rostelecom Cup and he wasn’t sure he was physically ready or in the right mindset, but he continued headfirst regardless.

He had to win this. If he didn’t he’ll spend the rest of the year until next season beating himself up over it. The free program was where it mattered, so if he messed up in the short, he could make it up with his free skate. What was it Celestino always said?

Oh yeah. Breathe. Count to five. Breathe.

Don’t listen to the roar of the crowd as you skate out onto the ice. Don’t listen to your name being called. Don’t listen to the other skater’s scores.

Just focus on your breathing. Focus on your blades. Focus on the music, the piano, the slow start and the build up.

Focus.

He can almost taste victory. Can almost reach out and touch the face of that gold medal hanging around Victor’s neck as he stands next to him with silver.

No. He had to think higher than that. He can prove to everybody that he’s stronger. That he can be better. It’s not that he wants to beat Victor, just wants to be on the same level as him.

The music finishes with a flourish and he strikes his end pose. The crowd erupts.

At the Kiss & Cry he waits for his score and he can’t believe it when he sees he’s number one. The first thing he thinks is standing on the podium at the finals looking up into Victor’s bright eyes.

The competition ends and Yuri, the ice tiger of Russia walks up to him and shakes his hand, congratulating him on his win.

“You were great,” he said, “but watch out at the finals, cuz I’m coming for your ass.”

Yuuri looked shocked at the bold statement, not knowing what to say.

But Yuri just smiled, “just kidding, Katsudon.”

“Oh,” Yuuri relaxed. He tilted his head, “wait. How do you know about katsudon?”

“I went to Japan to bring Victor back to Russia after he went looking for you and he wouldn’t shut up about katsudon. Didn’t take me long to figure out katsudon was a freaking metaphor for you,” he rolled his eyes.

Yuuri blushed. His face was hot.

“Look, whatever he found in Japan… he came back different,” Yuri explained, “he started going to practice more, he busied himself at the rink and when I asked him about it, all he said was that he was suddenly inspired.”

“Was he not before?” Yuuri asked.

Yuri shook his head, “he had no motivation, he was doing to same thing day to day and it was getting old. He was at the top, it was lonely, no one could touch him. But something changed. He was focussed but it was like he was trying to reach a goal. Like there was something he wanted but couldn’t get.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but think that sounded familiar.

“At least that’s what he told me his programs were about; reaching for something you couldn’t get.”

Yuuri’s heart thumped. He nodded at the teen as they parted ways.

As Yuuri leaves the arena, towing his bag behind him, he thinks, next time.

Next time he’ll do things right. He’ll be stronger. Better. He’ll place on the podium, standing next to Victor with a sparkle in his eye and a medal around his neck and he’ll finally get to meet the person he’s been chasing for years.

Next time, he won’t walk away.

 

* * *

 

Victor was up to his chin in the cold pool water on the rooftop of their hotel in Barcelona. He had expected the water to be heated, but he guessed people in Barcelona don’t go swimming in the dead of winter.

Except for him and Chris.

He was half-heartedly taking photos of Chris striking various poses in the water when his friend noticed he wasn’t giving a running commentary of Chris’s modeling like he use to.

“What’s going on?” Chris asked as he stepped out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his body.

“Hm?” Victor hummed.

Chris came to sit beside him and lean his elbows onto his knees, “you’re quiet today.”

“Am I?” Victor said nonchalantly. He flipped through the photos he had taken to avoid looking into Chris’s eyes.

“Victor,” Chris’s curt voice forced Victor to look at him, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Victor shrugged, “I’m fine.”

Chris tilted his head and gave him a knowing look, “how long have I known you? You think that still works on me?”

Victor glared at his friend briefly but deflated, “it’s nothing.”

“It’s Katsuki, isn’t it?”

Victor closed his eyes recalling the golden brown eyes that stared up at him in awe. He recalled the stench of alcohol on his breath as he clung to Victor and asked him to come to his hot spring inn. He recalled the look of calm on the man’s face as he skated to _Stammi Vicino_.

“I thought Yuuri was giving you ‘new inspirations and a reason to live’ and all that,” he imitated what Victor had confided in him in the summer, “not breaking your heart, or whatever it is you’re wallowing about.”

“I’m not wallowing,” Victor said quietly in the stillness of the early morning brisk winter air, “he didn’t break my heart. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then why do you look so upset?”

Victor sighed, “it’s just—he… Have you ever wanted something so badly that you knew you could never have it, but you tried anyways and at every attempt the thing just slips out of your grasp and you get upset when you failed like you expected to and you start to think that maybe this thing was never meant to be caught, and that you were chasing something impossible?”

Chris blinked at him, “not specifically. No.”

Victor sighed and looked up at the night sky, hoping, praying that this will be the time he finally gets to say hi to Katsuki Yuuri and look into those warm brown eyes again.

“What if i’m not what he expected?” Victor said, “what if the real me isn’t good enough for him?”

Chris understood Victor’s worry, sitting back on the deck chair, “Yuuri loves you. I know because he told me. Well, not in so many words, but he admires you. Clear as day.”

“He admires Russian Legend, Victor Nikiforov. Not Victor,” he said, “and admiring is different than…”

“Than... what?” Chris prompted.

Victor shook his head, “forget it,” he stood up and wrapped his towel around his body.

“Victor—”

“I’ve been chasing this boy since last year and he won’t even bat an eyelash at me. He won’t even so much as talk to me on twitter or instagram!”

Chris followed him as they rode the elevator down to their rooms, “he’s very inactive on social media; you might want to reconsider your mode of communication.”

Victor continued, “am I doing something wrong?”

Chris put his hand on Victor’s shoulder in a comforting gesture when they reached their adjacent rooms, “Yuuri is a subtle guy. I think you’re going about this in all the wrong ways. Flying out to see him without so much as a hello, _unannounced_ I might add, is a little too forward. Even for me.”

Victor looked to the side in thought.

“Victor, take it slow.”

He took Chris’s advice to heart and over the next couple of days was determined to meet Yuuri again.

It wasn’t until the competition was underway that he had realized this would be his sixth consecutive Grand Prix title if he won.

He didn’t care much for these competitions; they’re repetitive and it doesn’t excite Victor anymore. He was at the top and it was lonely. But now he thinks he has a true competitor in the leagues.

He watched Katsuki Yuuri skate through his programs perfectly, every element executed with perfection. The expressions on his face were clear of struggle and graced with a beauty so great and delicate, Victor’s heart almost leapt out of his chest and into Yuuri’s waiting hands.

Yuuri had every person in the audience hanging off the edge of their seats, roaring in applause when he successfully executed a jump. It was like watching a phoenix be reborn as Victor remembered his performances from last year.

Victor watched Katsuki Yuuri fight his way through to the top. There wasn’t any doubt in Victor’s mind that Katsuki was going to get gold. But then it was his turn to skate.

And when he heard Yuuri’s score that had broke Victor’s record, he found himself liking this boy even more.

The last thing on his mind before he readied himself as he heard his name being called was that he wanted to shake Katsuki Yuuri’s hand.

 

* * *

 

Something had switched in Yuuri between this year and last. Perhaps it was the video of him skating Victor’s program that had set it off (he made a mental note to thank the Nishigori triplets when he got back to Japan). Perhaps the notion of Victor actually recognizing him as a fellow competitor had him motivated to show him and the world what he’s actually capable of. Perhaps he was so depressed and insecure after losing last season that he wanted to prove himself wrong.

Whatever it was, it worked. And he was currently in first place with only Victor left to skate.

And as he watched the champion from the sidelines, the world around him transformed. It was like he was watching magic being made right before his eyes. He felt twelve again, watching the fresh faced Victor Nikiforov of sixteen skating with long, flowing hair.

His performance was nothing short of breathtaking. Every element mastered, the timing perfected, his expressions soft and in another world of it’s own.

He commanded the audience. The judges were in his favour. Every skater in the arena was on their knees.

When the performance was over Yuuri was ushered to the green room where along the way he was bombarded by cameras and interviewers that he had no time to register his just-by-a-fraction-of-a-point silver medal spot on the podium.

It wasn’t until he was shaking Victor’s hand and standing beside him, centre ice, that he really got to bask in his accomplishment.

“Congratulations, Katsuki Yuuri,” Victor’s voice said quietly as they waited for their medals to be awarded.

He was real. He was beautiful. A god stood tall as Yuuri inclined his head to gaze up at the man in the middle.

“Thank you,” he said with a confidence he didn’t know he had, “Victor.”

“You’re an incredible skater,” Victor smiled.

“You’re better,” Yuuri smiled back.

Victor shrugged, “not by much, it seems next time I’ll have to watch out for you going after my gold medal,” he winked at Yuuri.

Yuuri flushed and their conversation was stilted as the officials walked down the red carpet, medals in tow.

When they stood together for a photo, Yuuri couldn’t help but gasp quietly as he felt Victor’s arm find its way wrapped gently around his back and his hand pressing lightly into his waist as he pulled him closer.

The feeling lingered all throughout the night. He stared at his silver medal in his hotel room, it was lighter than he thought it would be but he found himself grinning down at the medal, proud of himself that he had accomplished placing second in the finals. He had done this all by himself, with the help of Celestino, of course. But it was him that had the strength to carry on and not retire like the rumours had said last year.

He overcame all he had to in order to be at the top with Victor. Beside Victor.

Victor.

He had come face to face with his idol and he actually congratulated him for his achievement.

His heart thumped wildly in his chest. For the longest time, hearing his friends and family talk about Victor flying out to meet him, he couldn’t put a finger on what he had felt in his heart at the time. His heart singing at the thought of his idol respecting him and treating him as an equal competitor. He knew what this feeling was now; he was happy.

 

* * *

 

The gala was the most enjoyable exhibition he had experienced in all his life during his long competitive career. But what cemented his enjoyment for life was the banquet after the show.

Every time he looked over at Yuuri, he found he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

This boy had captured his heart and wasn’t letting go of it anytime soon.

Chris had pushed Victor toward Yuuri as he spoke with another, the Thai skater, Phichit Chulanont. It seemed they were close as Phichit burst out into laughter at something Yuuri had said and clutched his arm as he leaned forward onto Yuuri’s shoulder.

He felt something in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t like. Victor stopped in his tracks as he found himself wanting to back out in doubt, but before he could turn around Chris had pushed him forward.

Phichit had caught sight of them, “hi,” he said, waving enthusiastically.

Victor waved awkwardly, slowly stepping forward toward the pair, “hello.”

Yuuri turned around, still smiling at the thing he’d said earlier and his eyes widened when they met Victor’s. He thought it was cute, and his heart certainly did as his pulse quickened and flowers bloomed and spread all throughout his veins, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

There were so many things Victor wanted to say to Yuuri, all of them coming to the forefront of his brain at once, his thoughts scrambled as he tried to speak.

“Hi, Victor,” Yuuri said, his voice casting warmth across his chest and shoulders.

“Hi,” Victor managed to say, “Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled, ducking his head at the way Victor had said his name, “you can call me Yuuri.”

“Alright,” Victor smiled and nodded, “Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled and looked up at him through his eyelashes and if Victor’s heart stopped beating then he was surely in heaven.

“Hi, Yuuri,” Chris chimed in, leaning his arm on Victor’s shoulder, “you look particularly stunning today.

Yuuri gave Chris a shy smile and the colour on his cheeks darkened to a rose as he stuttered, “oh, uh, thanks,” but quickly returned Victor’s gaze as he batted his eyelashes at him.

“You are amazing,” Victor blurted out rather breathlessly.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows, shocked at the compliment. Victor was vaguely aware of Phichit and Chris hiding a giggle behind their glasses of champagne.

“I—I mean skater. An amazing skater. _You are_ an amazing skater,” he stuttered.

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, pink dusted high on his cheekbones.

Victor was speechless at the beauty of this boy.

Thankfully Chris came to the rescue, though he was less thankful at the words that came out of his mouth when he spoke, “Victor watched the video of you skating to his program last season,” he started.

Victor wanted to punch his friend in the gut to shut him up, “well, it went viral and everyone was tweeting it to me and naturally I was curious,” he glared at Chris.

“He watched that video at least a hundred times. He wouldn’t shut up about you, every skype call was _Yuuri this, Yuuri that_ , I was beginning to think he was obsessed or something.”

Victor flushed red, a mirror image to the colour on Yuuri’s cheeks. Yuuri gazed up at him with sparkling eyes, Victor wanted to stare into them forever.

“I quote _‘you created music with your body.’_ ” Chris continued and Victor wanted to die, “he was so inspired. Actually this is the most inspired I’ve ever seen him.”

“Oh?” Yuuri breathed.

Chris nodded.

“I was inspiring?” Yuuri asked.

“Of course,” Victor said, though embarrassed at Chris’s candor, Victor was proud to own up to it as long as Yuuri looked up at him with those adoring eyes, “you were my inspiration for my programs this season.”

Yuuri’s expression slowly lit up as he let out a disbelieving laugh and his eyes crinkled and he visibly relaxed, “you were mine,” he said.

Victor’s heart stopped working all together and he was sure he would collapse right there onto the table behind him. He rubbed away at the heat growing at the back of his neck as he smiled shyly at Yuuri.

“I’m sure you know this already,” it was Phichit’s turn to be frank with the group, “but Yuuri has admired you for a long time.”

Victor did know this. Was told many times by Yuuri’s family, friends and coach. It was no surprise to him, but he raised his eyebrows all the same, “you did?”

Yuuri hid his blush as he sipped his champagne, “yes.”

“I’d hate to see him, oh, I don’t know,” Phichit brought a finger to his chin, “disappointed or heartbroken.”

Yuuri stepped on Phichit’s foot with a tight smile, causing the Thai skater to stop talking.

They were briefly interrupted by a photographer asking the group for a photo and as Victor stood with his arm wrapped around Yuuri, he couldn’t help but think he would like all the future banquets to be like this forever.

“Would you like to dance with me, Victor?” Yuuri asked him with wide eyes and a small smile on his lips and an outstretched hand offering to take his heart.

He was suddenly reminded of last year’s banquet and the drunken Yuuri that had asked him to dance and swept him off his feet and left without calling the next day. Victor would gladly give Yuuri his whole world if it meant he got to see that smile on his face again, “okay.”

Yuuri took him by the hand and pulled him toward the dance floor away from their friends. Victor didn’t dare take his eyes off of him for fear that he was just a dream and he would disappear if he looked away.

If it was possible to fall in love so soon after meeting a person, then Victor had done it. They laughed and danced and talked the night away until they were stumbling, slightly tipsy, down a random hall in the hotel after stealing some cake from the kitchen’s refrigerator.

Yuuri was snickering into Victor’s sleeve as he clutched onto his arm.

“How does it taste? Is it good at least?” Yuuri asked him, his face impossibly close to his neck. Victor could feel his warm breath against his ear and he flushed at the feeling.

Victor took a bite of the cake, “mhmm, s’good, frosting is sweet.”

“Shh,” Yuuri put a finger to Victor’s lips, “someone’s coming.”

Victor looked right and left and noticed a figure turning the corner.

“Quick, eat it before we get caught,” Yuuri took the piece of cake in his hand and shoved it into Victor’s open mouth.

The woman that rounded the corner walked by them without a second glance and turned another corner, leaving the two men alone in the hall.

Victor swallowed the cake down just as Yuuri looked back at him before laughing out loud. Victor couldn’t help but laugh with Yuuri but soon realized Yuuri was laughing at him.

“You have—” Yuuri tried, “you’ve got frosting on your face. Oh my god.”

Victor blushed, embarrassed. He took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his lips, but he must’ve missed as Yuuri laughed harder.

He looked around for a mirror or a shiny surface but there was none. Instead Yuuri had calmed down enough to take the hanky from his hand and bring it up to his face.

Victor stood absolutely stock still. Yuuri’s hand gently worked over his face as he wiped it clean. He took his hand away and inspected the cream, and then he did something that had Victor weak at the knees and grasping at the cart beside him for leverage.

Yuuri swiped his finger through the cream and brought it to his mouth, sucking it dry. He gazed up at Victor as he moaned quietly around his finger.

He pulled his finger from his lips with a pop and spoke into the quiet, electrically charged space between them, “very sweet.”

Victor sucked in a breath of air, his eyes darted to Yuuri’s lips and watched as he licked the cream that lingered on his bottom lip.

Yuuri’s eyes lowered to Victor’s lips as he breathed.

He distantly heard Chris’s voice telling him to take things slow.

After chasing this boy for a year, missing him by a split second in every attempt, and dedicating his entire season to him, he didn’t want to take things slow. To hell with taking things slow.

He could taste the electricity coursing through them, could hear the sound of his heart beating and feel his resolve crumble as he grabbed Yuuri by the waist and pulled him forward into a kiss.

It was amazing and everything he’d hoped for and more. His head was spinning, his heart pounding. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri, pulling his body flush against him as he leaned back against the wall.

And Yuuri kissed him back with the gentle slide of his lips. He felt his hands slide up his stomach and chest as they came to rest on his shoulders, leaving trails of sparks where he touched.

Yuuri parted, leaning back slightly as he looked at Victor with hooded eyes, leaving him a whining mess, “you taste like frosting,” he bit his lip.

Victor pulled him back into a kiss and brought his hand up to rest in between Yuuri’s shoulder blades feeling them move as Yuuri raised his arms to wrap his hands around the back of his neck.

Their tongues met and Victor pushed deeper, gripping the fabric of Yuuri’s suit in his fingers as he felt his nerves set on fire with the passion of the kiss, needing something to hold onto.

Yuuri parted again, by just an inch and whispered, “so sweet.”

Victor tightened his hold on Yuuri as he flipped them around, pressing him back into the wall. Yuuri moaned softly against his lips as they kissed once more and Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Victor practically growled into Yuuri’s mouth when Yuuri nibbled experimentally on his bottom lip. He fitted his leg between Yuuri’s, testing the waters and when Yuuri made no move that suggested he was against it, Victor started to shift his body. He rocked back and forth, swallowing Yuuri’s soft breathless moans in his mouth.

Victor parted from his lips and started kissing down Yuuri’s chin and neck, biting and leaving red marks in his trail. His gasps and moans now louder and higher in pitch as they chased their pleasure.

He sucked at Yuuri’s pulse point, feeling the bob of his adam’s apple as Yuuri swallowed down a moan.

“Victor,” he gasped. His hand flew to Victor’s hair, tugging it hard in his fingers, moaning as Victor groaned around his throat.

Yuuri tapped him on the head, “Victor, someone’s coming.”

Victor hummed against his collarbone, “I don’t care,” lips pressed against Yuuri’s flesh.

“Victor,” Yuuri gasped.

“Yuuri,” Victor moaned.

“Yuuri!” a voice called from the end of the hall, “oh.”

Victor reluctantly stopped sucking on Yuuri’s neck and they both turned their heads to the person that had interrupted them. It was Phichit. He was smiling behind his hand as he slowly approached the two.

“Phichit!” Yuuri said, letting his arms fall from Victor’s hair.

“I can come back…” Phichit started.

Yuuri’s face flushed beet red, “No!”

“Yes,” Victor said. He started to lean back into Yuuri’s space when he was pushed away.

“No,” Yuuri said again, “what is it, Phichit?”

The Thai boy flicked his eyes between the two, “someone wants to meet you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

But Phichit had escaped before Yuuri knew it and Victor’s lips were back on Yuuri’s throat in an instant.

Yuuri’s heart jumped and his hands shook as he tried to push Victor and the feeling of his warm tongue against his neck away.

“Victor,” Yuuri said breathlessly, he wanted to stay here forever basking in the feeling of Victor pressed up against him, “we should go back.”

“No,” Victor mumbled against his skin.

“Someone’s waiting—” Yuuri found Victor’s lips pressed against his once more in a searing kiss.

Victor pulled away, “let them wait.”

“But—” Yuuri tried but was once again interrupted with Victor’s lips, “we have all the time in the world.”

Victor stopped kissing him then, staring into Yuuri’s eyes with an emotion that he couldn’t place rushing to Victor’s heart.

Yuuri’s panic was visible on his face, “I—I just mean—not that we’ll spend the rest of our time together, you don’t have to, but—”

Victor rushed to kiss him thoroughly, taking his time to appreciate Yuuri’s mouth and savour in the taste.

“Yuuri," he mumbled against Yuuri’s lips, “I’ve been waiting you for so long and you don’t think I want to spend more time with you? Of course I do.”

A smile spread across Yuuri’s cheeks as his eyes widened and sparkled up at him, a familiar sight to the drunken Yuuri of Sochi, “you do?” he asked incredulously.

Victor nodded and pressed a light kiss to his lips, “yes. Do you?”

Yuuri let out a breathless laugh, “do I? Victor, I’ve been trying to chase you my entire life; I will always want to be with you.”

They shared a private kiss, more intimate that the others before, more caring and gentle, Victor would go as far as to say it was loving.

They returned to the banquet hall, holding hands and looking thoroughly disheveled.

Victor saw from the corner of his eyes Chris reluctantly handing over a few American dollars to Phichit who just smiled at him.

Victor spent the entire night clutching onto Yuuri like a lifeline, holding him close and tight. He didn’t want to let go, but he knew he would have to once the night was over and they had to return to their separate worlds. This night spent with Yuuri was the most fun he’s ever had in years and he wanted to savour every feeling and every smile and every kiss.

“When will I see you again?” Victor cupped Yuuri’s face in his hands as he pressed him against his hotel door, kissing his lips softly.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri clutched Victor’s shirt in his hands and pulled him closer.

“I don’t want to leave,” Victor kissed him hard, savouring Yuuri’s plush lips and the sweet taste of his tongue, “I want to stay with you.”

“Then stay,” Yuuri whimpered.

And stay Victor did. And the next morning they parted ways. Victor was afraid this was the end. He knew he would see Yuuri again, but when, he wasn’t sure, which was the part that scared him the most.

 

* * *

 

But they would see each other again, Yuuri and Victor would meet again and again at each competition for the rest of the season. And Yuuri worked twice as hard to keep his position on the podium next to Victor.

By the time the World Competition had rolled around, Yuuri was gunning for a gold medal. And he won. He was standing on the middle podium, smiling down at a beaming Victor who shone so bright he could blind any unsuspecting bypasser.

Yuuri had surpassed Victor. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he could be better than Russia’s living legend Victor Nikiforov. Yet here he was, on top of the podium, beside the person he looked up to and chased for years and years.

The World title was his. Victor was his.

At the press conference that day Victor had announced he was going to take the season off. And questions of what his plans were for the next year came flooding in.

Yuuri was shocked just like everyone in the room. He stared at the person beside him, his heart crushed at the news; would Victor be able to make a successful comeback at this time in his career? But then Victor turned his head to look at Yuuri.

“Well, if Yuuri would have me,” Victor smiled at him, “I’d like to be his coach.”

Yuuri was speechless. His jaw hung open as he gaped at Victor.

“He’s a very good skater and I think he has potential to be even greater and I’d like to help make that possibility a reality,” Victor said.

Yuuri blinked, baffled at the idea that Victor wanted to coach him personally.

“And what’s your reply to that, Katsuki?” One reporter asked in a sea of cameras clicking.

“Um,” Yuuri breathed, “I—uh.”

Victor then said, “Yuuri doesn’t have to decide now, but I just wanted to proposition the idea for the future.”

“Yes,” Yuuri said, “yes, I want to be your student.”

Victor snapped his head to look at Yuuri. A smile growing on his face, “that’s great.”

A flurry of questions came rushing at them and cameras clicked and flashed at them and everything was a blur from then on, the only thing Yuuri could think of was Victor becoming his coach, indefinitely. And it put a huge grin on his face and his heart thumped wildly. He was happy.

At the banquet they had discussed details and logistics; Victor would move to Japan to train Yuuri in his hometown, and would live at Yu-topia, Yuuri’s family Inn.

Victor asked him the one question he’d been dying to ask, “Yuuri, now that we’re going to be seeing each other everyday, would you consider being my boyfriend?”

Yuuri smiled at him, showing off his pearly whites, and kissed him, “yes. I would.”

And a year later Yuuri was competing at the Grand Prix again, this time with Victor by his side, supporting him in every way.

Yuuri loved Victor. And Victor loved Yuuri. And they broadcasted their love at the final with rings of gold around their fingers and an exhibition pair skate to the duet of _Stammi Vicino_ , announcing Victor’s comeback to competitive skating.

Yuuri couldn’t be more happy than he was at that moment, having skated on the same ice as Victor as a competitor and now as a team.

He had a dream so big and was strong enough to fight on his own and met and fell in love with his idol along the way. They called everything on the ice love.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a thing for Yuuri wiping food off of Victor's face (if you couldn't tell)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://tesselester.tumblr.com/)


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